The Sedalia weekly bazoo. [volume] (Sedalia, Mo.) 187?-1904, 1887-11-01
HER SACRIFICE.
The Old, Old Story Of Women's
Devotion to Man.

1t was only after considerable in
quiry that l found conveyance to
take me to my destination-the little
village of NJ, up among the mount
aims. 1 had been employed to superin-
tend the construction of a large saw
mill. and the making of other neces-
sary arrangements for the manufacture
and shipping of lumber in the almost
limitless pine woods of that region.
Twas already far from railroad COM
farther to the last town on my route;
but the scene of my labor was several
miles beyond that, and the vehicle in
which found myself seated was any
thing but comfortable one. The snow
drifted in through the tapping cur
tains, as we jolted along, sometimes
dangerously near to a yawning gulf, or
climbing laboriously over an interven-
ing ridge.
About four o'clock we arrived at the
village, and drew up at the dilapidated
little inn. Without loss of time, / en-
tered the office, which contained bar,
and in which few men were sitting
idly around an old stove, smoking and
chatting. A slatternly woman stood at
the window, picking her teeth with
broom-straw, and staring alternately
at the men and at the snow-covered
mountain-side.
care you the new superintendent at
the camp?" asked the landlord, taking
my coat and valise.
YES" answered.
"Well. 1 thought so. You can't do
much lumberin' now. kin youP This
is the back ardest spring ever knowed.
The men'n be down tonight, if they
kin git down, for they can't do any
thing for week now, any how. Is
the men a-eomin', LucindyP Lucindy,
Is the men a-comin'P" shouted the
speaker in her ears, for "Lucindy" had
fallen into fit of staring, and had EVIL
IDENTITY not heard the question; but she
now reused up, and said they were
"a-comin' over the North Divide"
I looked toward the window from
where sat, and through the top pane
could see line of dim objects, which /
soon discovered to be men, filing down
through the snow on the mountain-side
some distance away. In short time
they came struggling into the village,
when learned that most of them lived
in their own homes, while few board
ed at the tavern where / then was, or
with their fellow-workmen.
''Well, you're all back alive, are
you?" said one of the idlers to the first
who came in.
'.All but Holder" he answered. HE
couldn't come, unless we'd "a carried
him, and we want likely to do that,
rs we had all we could do to carry our
selves. He's in pretty bad shape to-
day, he is. Andif it SHOWS all night he
can't come in the morning, neither.
Why, there's drifts now higher'n a
mans head, and it all looks alike up
there. You can't follow the path now.
Why, Howells tried to lead comm
down, and he got lost four or five
times"
Having delivered himself of this
speech the speaker placed chair for
himself to sit in, but before sitting
down he raised one forefnger toward
the crowd, and, shutting one eye, said:
81 tell you my opinion is he'd better
let it alone. If couldn't take little,
once in awhile, and then stop, I'd
jist quit square off. What sense is there
in taking it along, especially by the
jugful' at time? don't mind mans
takin' a bottle; we all do that some
times; but a jug-that's going it little
too strong. Moderate drinkin' don't
hurt no man. know it don't hurt me,
and don't believe it hurts anybody"
Here the woman at the window turned
and looked at the speaker, sitting there
in his thin, worn clothes and hat full of
holes. From him her eyes wandered
20 the pinched face of little boy,
standing near, whose shoes were thin
and about two sizes too large for him,
suggesting that they had been given to
him by some charitably inclined person.
She evidently considered that the
man and his child might be better
clothed, even if he was not "hurt" by
what he spent for drink; but she was
the bar-keeper's wife, and did not give
utterance to her thoughts, whatever
they were.
Here the landlord, whose name was
Roscoe, stopped the rather contradic-
tory statement of the other by saying:
Maybe you'd better not talk too